Tasty
by lilsherlockian1975
Summary: Sherlock and Molly enjoying a little 'after dinner' delight. This one's bit naughty. For OhAiné. Rating for... well it's just basically PWP. Enjoy!
_My dear friend OhAiné is under the weather, so I wrote her a little PWP to hopefully cheer her up. Really, what are friends for? I know how Sherlock/Molly sex brightens my day! : ) Big thank you to MizJoely for her betaing skills. She is wonderful. There's not a whole lot of plot going on here, but there is a bit of fun!_

 _I own nothing. Enjoy! ~Lil~_

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"Oh God, Molly. Your neck… it tastes… it tastes…" His words died as he continued to devour Molly's throat. They were on the settee in Baker Street where they'd ended up after a lovely dinner. He had one hand buried in her hair and the other firmly gripping her side just under her button-up that he'd recently freed from her skirt. "What _is_ it? I can't seem to place it," he whispered into her ear. His mouth started moving southward, kissing and nipping at her skin.

"Ahh, I-I don't know, Sherlock. I've never actually t-tasted my own n-neck before," Molly replied, proud of herself for forming a coherent sentence since Sherlock was now drawing his teeth across her collarbone.

He kissed his way back up her neck, pausing to suck on her pulse point (God, she'd need to dig out her abandoned scarf collection if he wasn't careful!) then nibbled on her ear before speaking again. "It's salty and sweet and something else I can't quite name. I can't get enough of it." He proved this by taking a bit of flesh between his teeth and sucking, hard. His hand moved further up under her top until he reached her left breast. "Why are you wearing a bra?"

"Because it's…Oh yesssss!" She braced her forehead on his shoulder when he concentrated on her nipple through the lacey fabric. "It's… what's... done." Okay, not an elegant response, but what did he expect when his long dexterous fingers were playing her like a… a... "Like a what?" she said out loud, frustrated at her broken thought.

He brought his head up and ghosted his lips across hers. "What was that, love?"

"I have no fucking idea. We need to stop, Sherlock. Or _not_ stop. Or…"

He silenced her with a searing kiss, his tongue invading her mouth in the most lovely way. They were supposed to be taking things slowly - his idea. This was _not_ slow. This was racing towards the finish line at break-neck speed. She wasn't sure what his idea of slow was, but drenching her knickers on their second date…NOT SLOW!

Pulling back from the kiss he whispered, "I'm thinking... _not stop_. What about you?"

Molly was going to agree but in a moment of doubt she shook her head.

Sherlock quickly removed his hand. "I know I'm a bit rusty, but I'm almost certain that you _are_ enjoying yourself."

She licked her lips, still able to taste him lingering there. "No, I mean, yes, of course I was… _am_." She took a deep breath. "You didn't want this, you said you wanted to go slow."

He smirked. "It's possible that on this one occasion, I was wrong."

He reached for her again, but Molly stopped him. "Hold on! You never admit to being wrong!"

"I wouldn't say _never_."

Molly narrowed her eyes and started to speak, but Sherlock cut her off. "Okay, sometimes I may be reluctant to admit mistakes, though I rarely make them, but I've _never_ had such _delicious_ motivation before."

His smirk was absolutely sinful and she had to _make_ herself not jump onto his lap. But she managed, because… _Oh, he gives himself away every time._ Once again he moved toward her and she held up her hand. "You're lying." He started to protest, but she wasn't having it. "No, I _know_ you're lying. You have tells."

He rolled his eyes and laughed. "I most certainly do not."

"Maybe not to the average person, but to me you do. I don't know what you're lying about, because I'm not you, but right now you're lying."

He huffed in frustration and shook his head. "Fine! But later when I'm not… ah, preoccupied, I want to know about these _tells_."

Molly watched as Sherlock leaned back on the settee and adjusted his trousers. She momentarily kicked herself for not rushing full steam ahead considering the enticing outline of his hard cock in those incredibly tight trousers.

"Ah-Ah. You're the one who put on the brakes." He released a deep breath. "It was something that you said at dinner."

"What?"

He seemed to ignore her question and continued. "My suggestion to move at a slow pace was purely for your benefit. I needed you to trust me before we started a physical relationship. I'm afraid my past behaviour hasn't done much to engender your trust, Molly."

She was dumbfounded. She had assumed it was his feelings regarding sentiment and, well, until he'd practically attacked her when they'd walked through the door of his flat, his aversion to physical intimacy. "Okay. That makes sense, I suppose. But what changed your mind?"

"You don't remember what you said?"

Molly immediately started searching her mind. What on earth could she have said that..?

Sherlock scooted closer once again.

"No, no I don't," she admitted.

"You said…" He kissed her cheek. "That…" Another kiss to the corner of her mouth. "You've never trusted anyone more than me." He closed his mouth on hers in a passionate kiss that scrambled Molly's mind before she could process his words. She felt his hands move to her top and start to release the buttons. His mouth once again traveled down her neck until it reached the swell of her breasts.

Pushing her top off of her shoulders he leaned back and smiled triumphantly. "Any objections?" he asked, not looking her in the eyes but rather the new flesh he'd just uncovered.

As she shook her head her mind cleared a bit and she was finally able to think about what he'd just said. She remembered saying that she trusted him, but… "Ah, Sh-Sherlock…"

He didn't respond,he was too busy removing the bra he'd been complaining about earlier. Once removed he wasted no time taking a nipple in his mouth. He pulled back, blowing across the now-moistened peak, causing her to shiver and moan. He looked up at her devilishly and licked his lips. "Mmmm... Molly, your breasts taste even better than your neck." He reached up, cupping her other breast, and returned his mouth to her nipple, this time biting down with the perfect amount of pressure to cause her to squirm and bury her hands in his hair.

He was busy switching breasts when she tried again to explain what she'd meant at dinner. "Listen, about…"

He brought his head up and kissed her as he continued to toy with her nipple. "Remember all the times I insulted your ability to make chit-chat? I never meant it, not a word of it. But right now I'd prefer if you'd keep the conversation to _Oh yes, Sherlock, right there_. Or _no I don't like that, don't do it again_. I'm trying to figure you out, Molly Hooper. We can talk later."

His head descended once again and his gorgeous lips continued to work her into a frenzy. "God, that's a good idea. Amazing idea, really," Molly said and he hummed in agreement.

She was reclined on the sofa, eyes closed and completely lost in the feeling of his warm, wet mouth on her skin. He started moving lower, kissing and nipping as he went, stopping occasionally to lick at a spot he seemed to particularly enjoy. She felt a tugging and realised he was undoing the zip on her skirt.

"Lift your hips, love," he said, his voice so soft and so deep she thought she might come just from the sound. She looked down to see that he'd situated himself on the floor kneeling almost reverently at her feet.

Her skirt and knickers were removed at once, then he was back, sucking on her hip bone as he gently nudged her thighs apart. He kissed his way across her stomach, pausing to tongue her belly button, while his hands firmly massaged her thighs. God, she was so turned on, she was certain that she must be soaking his settee by now. She need him to touch her pussy, and soon.

She moaned and tugged on his hair, trying to get him to put his mouth where she wanted it, but he simply moved to her thigh, kissing, licking, biting. "Oh God, Sherlock. Pl-please!" she begged.

"Yes, I believe it's time," he said, his mouth hovering over her center, his hot breath making her pant even harder. She felt his thumbs gently part her lips and she realised that she was trembling. "Oh God, Molly. My mouth is actually watering."

" _Fuck_!" she whispered, and took the opportunity to look down at him. He was staring at her cunt like it was the first time he'd ever seen one. Though she had realised very early on in the evening that the rumors about his inexperience were _way_ off the mark. She closed her eyes tightly; the visual was almost too much to take.

The tip of his tongue touched her and she nearly exploded. Her hips came up off the cushion and she called out his name. An arm snaked around her waist, holding her in place as his tongue found its way into her channel. "Oh fuck, that's… ahhhh God… you're a-ama-amazing!"

He stroked her stomach lovingly as his tongue lapped at her leaking juices. She was close, so close. If he'd just touch her clit she knew she'd come. A tight feeling of heat coiled in her stomach, aching to be released. A single stroke and she'd be finished. But he concentrated his efforts lower, wider. Licking, sucking, even biting every inch of her pussy, driving her mad. At some point, without even realising it, she'd begun twisting one of her nipples, desperate to find her end.

She opened her eyes once again to find Sherlock watching what she was doing intently. He raised up and looked her in the eyes, his mouth and chin shiny and wet. "You ready to come?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Molly nodded.

She watched him move a hand to his cock, still covered in those unbelievably tight trousers, he rubbed himself several times. "God, I could do this all night, but I'm about to embarrass myself here. I've never tasted anything like you, Molly. You taste divine. Unique and utterly exquisite!" He licked his lips obscenely then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Sherlock please! I can't take much more!" She moved her right hand to her hip, her fingernails digging into her skin, wanting to just get it over with even if she had to do it herself. The sight of him stroking his own cock, his voice, her arousal on his face... She'd never been so turned on in her life, it was very nearly painful.

Sherlock smirked and stood up. Molly almost panicked. Her lust addled mind couldn't figure out exactly what he was doing until he quickly started removing his clothes. It was still taking too long though and she started inching her hand lower.

"Don't you dare," he warned, his eyes never leaving hers. "That's mine. I've got you right where I want you and I won't have you undoing all my _delicious_ work. The first time you come in my presence it will be wrapped around my cock."

Molly was stunned. She'd never had a lover talk to her like that and somehow it managed to turn her on even more. Suddenly he was naked and she was staring at his _very_ impressive erection as he stroked himself, this time without the hindrance of clothes.

He sat down at the other end of the settee and continued to touch himself. He rested his head back on the cushion and looked over at her almost lazily. "Okay. It's all yours. Ride me."

Molly didn't have to be told twice. She quickly crawled across the cushions and straddled him, immediately reaching for his cock.

"Wait!" he said with a sinful twinkle in his eyes. He reached between her legs then inserted one of his long fingers into her. Molly bucked against his hand. He quickly withdrew it and brought it close to her lips. "Have you ever tasted yourself, Molly?"

She bit her lip and shook her head.

"Oh, you are missing out."

He raised a challenging eyebrow and she opened her mouth. She wasn't sure that she could refuse him anything at the moment. He smeared his finger across her bottom lip, and Molly sucked it into her mouth. Well, it didn't taste bad, necessarily; frankly she prefered the feeling of his finger moving in and out of her mouth. So she continued sucking, holding onto his wrist so that he wouldn't remove it. After a few seconds, though, he did but his finger was replaced with his mouth, which still tasted like her as well.

As they kissed Molly gripped his cock and stroked it, then she positioned herself over him. She broke the kiss this time as she was concentrating on the task at hand, and finally impaled herself on him.

They moaned in unison as Sherlock's hands held her firmly in place. His eyes closed tight, he seemed to be trying to steady himself. Soon though he loosened his grip and nodded as he opened his eyes.

Molly threaded her fingers through his hair and started to move. He felt so good. He stretched her perfectly, hitting her spot with every thrust. After a couple of minutes Sherlock pulled her forward kissing her roughly. "Fuck," she cursed against his lips. She was about to come. It was so close, just out of her reach.

He moved his lips to her neck and bit down hard. "Come for me Molly. God, you're perfect. I knew you would be." He thrust up as she ground down and she felt herself start to fall. "That's it. Fuck me!"

Her orgasm washed over her and heard herself calling out Sherlock's name along with a string of curses. She felt him holding her close and telling her how amazing she was, how he'd never stop fucking her. Opening her eyes, she saw his head thrown back as he grunted out his completion. His fingers dug into her sides hard enough to bruise, not that she cared, as he jerked and arched his hips into the air. Finally he relaxed and loosened his hold, moving his hands up her back, nudging her closer.

Molly laid her head on his chest and sighed contentedly. They were both covered in sweat and, well, other… things, and desperately needed a shower. But Molly was in no rush to get up, everything felt too perfect at the moment. Of course that couldn't last…

"What were you were you trying to tell me, before?" Sherlock asked as he stroked her back.

 _Oh yeah, that,_ she thought. Her legs were starting to hurt and she was afraid of getting a cramp, so she maneuvered until she was sitting across his lap. When she got comfortable with Sherlock's arm wrapped around her waist, the other drawing circles on her leg. She cleared her throat. "Um, at dinner, when I said that I trusted you more than anyone else?"

"Yes."

"Well, um, I was talking about letting you order for me. What I meant was that I trust your taste in French food, as I know nothing about that subject." She held her breath waiting for him to get awkward and Sherlock-ish about her admission.

"Hmm…" He looked across the room.

"But, of course, I _do_ trust you. And if it was really up to me and my comfort with you and this relationship to start having sex, I was obviously ready," she said in a rush to explain herself.

Sherlock nodded, still not making eye contact. She was worried. Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut?

"So, you were saying that you trust my taste in French cuisine, and I took it wrong? Is that what you're telling me?"

Molly nodded and bit her lip.

He looked at her and smiled. "Well, I do have impeccable tastes," he said with a wink.

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 _Okay, hope you liked it! Please let me know! Love a review! ~Lil~_


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